


Its weakest link

by Siff



Category: Gokusen (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Ryu!whump, Torture, comfort comes later, hayato is angsty, other yakuza gangs, ryu is stubborn, so much whump, this is more hurt than comfort tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24562519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siff/pseuds/Siff
Summary: It doesn't go unnoticed by the crime world that the heir to a major crime family spends her time teaching, so when Odagiri Ryu is grabbed off the street and tortured for information, Yankumi and her family must take action.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	Its weakest link

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tamuril2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamuril2/gifts).



> This is a gift for Tamuril2, who send me a bunch of prompts, this one among them. I hope you like it, though I'm not sure how close it is to what you wanted.  
> I'm still learning how to write, and my first language is not English, so I try to stay away from stories like this. I don't feel like I can do them justice. Pretty much the reason for it being so late, T, sorry about that. I had to rewrite it so many times and even chop it up into pieces for it to make sense to me. But, here it is. 
> 
> Enjoy!

He should have noticed the car.

After everything Ryu has been through the last few years, he of all people should notice when he’s being followed. But no.

Maybe he’s just too preoccupied with the constant inflow of texts to take notice. They’re all from Hayato, who keeps reminding him in between lulls shorter than a minute that the movie marathon at Tsucchi’s new place is this evening. And while amused by the words, the excessive use of emojis’ almost annoys him too much to actually answer, but he knows Hayato is unstoppable until he gets a response.

Maybe it’s what distracts him so much he doesn’t notice the car, or maybe he has just lowered his guard for the first time in years.

No matter what, he doesn’t notice until the car drives straight into his path and stops.

Surprised, Ryu takes a step back, and stares as the door to the front passenger seat open, and the largest man he has ever seen climbs out. He’s tall and muscular, with hair sleeked back and wearing a suit tailored to his massive frame. Even with the sunglasses, Ryu knows the man is looking right at him, and something tells him he should have been running away five minutes ago.

He takes another step back, ready to bolt if the man moves, but then a second car comes screeching to a halt right behind him, and four more men spill out of it like, all staring at him.

Ryu can feel the familiar rush of adrenaline fill him, screaming at him to either fight or run, but there’s nowhere to go. Fighting is out of the question. Even if he wasn’t outnumbered, there’s no way he’s picking a fight with these guys. They aren’t the usual high school dropouts he fought back then.

Without a word, the men surround him, closing in a tight circle and clearly not bothered by the scene they’re making. And then Ryu notices why. The street is empty. He looks around a bit desperately, but the street has somehow cleared out as soon as the cars drove up. The adrenaline begins to give away to fear.

The man with the sunglasses steps up in front of Ryu, who has to look up to see his face. He makes a small motion with his head towards the first car. “Get in,” he growls.

It takes a moment for Ryu to realize what’s happing. He shakes his head and opens his mouth, not really knowing what he can possibly say to these people. He never gets the chance. The man does something with his hand, and a knife appears between his fingers.

“I wasn’t asking.”

Ryu stares wide-eyed at the blade, heart hammering. He hears someone snicker behind him but doesn’t dare look away from the man in front of him.

Swallowing, he nods, and the man turns around and walks back to the car. When Ryu doesn’t follow immediately, the men tighten the circle around him. He feels like a sheep being pressed forward by wolves. A perhaps a fish with a net closing around it. No matter what, he knows it’s too late to run, not that he thinks he would have gotten very far.

The man opens the door to the backseat and looks expectantly at Ryu. The wall of men behind him steps closer, and Ryu nearly stumbles forward to get away from them. They follow him all the way to the car, where the man snatches the phone from his hand and quickly stuffs it into his own pocket.

Ryu freezes to the spot.

The man sighs. “You’ll get it back. Just get in.” The hand holding the knife hangs by his side, fingers lose around the handle. Ryu nods and climbs inside.

He has no interest in cars and knows little to nothing about the different brands – much to Hayato’s annoyance – but even he can see this one is expensive. It’s large inside, even larger than his father’s car, and the seats are made from black leather. The driver in the front doesn’t pay attention to him at all. He’s more occupied by the dashboard in front of him, which is filled with small screens showing everything from road maps to what looks like a stock screener.

Ryu doesn’t take much notice to him either since his attention is immediately drawn to the man sitting in the seat next to him.

A wild guess says he’s in his early thirties. He’s good looking with sharp cheekbones and an elegant nose, and his hair is styled to look naturally ruffled without coming off as sloppy. His blood-red tie stands out in contrast to his dark suit. He doesn’t look up when Ryu slips into the car. Instead, he’s sitting comfortably in his seat, focusing on a few pieces of paper which he flips back and forth through with a raised eyebrow.

As soon as the car door closes behind him, Ryu can hear the lock click. He looks out the tinted window and sees the giant has positioned himself in front of the door, nearly blocking the entire view, but Ryu catches a glint of the other men, standing aside and smoking. One of them makes an exaggerated frightened face, and the other’s throw their heads back, laughing.

When he looks ahead, Ryu meets the eyes of the driver in the rearview mirror. The driver puts on a pair of sunglasses and turns away.

Ryu then nearly jerks in his seat when he notices the man beside him is looking at him. He has put the papers away and now watches Ryu with a small smile.

“Hello,” he says, far too friendly. “Sorry about all this, but I thought a meeting face to face is best, don’t you agree?” He waves slightly towards the giant man outside, and Ryu sees the large gold watch on his wrist and recognizes the move for what it is. He’s showing off. He sounds almost like they’re old friends meeting up after a long time, a tone Ryu recognizes. His father’s friends always talk like that. Ryu doesn’t like him at all and remains silent.

It doesn’t seem to bother the man who reaches for a sleek leather folded by his feet. “My name is Harada,” he says as he opens the folder, “and I have a little proposition for you.” He gives Ryu a broad smile and pulls out a photo. He holds it out to Ryu, who hesitates before taking it. Slowly, he lowers his eyes to look at it, and his heart nearly drops into his stomach.

“That’s you, correct?” Harada asks.

He wants to say no, but can’t. It looks like it’s been taken by the park near the school and from a distance. The angle is terrible, but he easily recognizes himself, dressed in school uniform and talking to Yankumi, whose face is split into a giant smile. She’s gesturing with a clenched fist, no doubt giving some sort of speech at the moment.

Ryu stares at the photo. It has to be taken months ago. School ended nearly seven weeks ago, and he hasn’t worn his uniform since. He looks up at Harada, who watches him with a satisfied smile, clearly taking the expression on his face as confirmation. He points at the picture. “And that’s Yamaguchi Kumiko, is it not? Granddaughter and only living family member of Kuroda Ryuichiro. Fourth-generation and future leader of the Ooedo clan.” His smile grows toothy and sharp. “Is it not?”

Ryu doesn’t know what to say. The picture curls slightly in his hand as he tightens his hold.

“I thought so,” says Harada and plucks the photo from Ryu’s hand before it can get any more damaged. “But tell me, what is a woman of her position doing at a school?”

Ryu swallows and lowers his eyes. His hand is still raised like it’s holding the picture, and it’s shaking slightly. His fingers slowly curl into a fist. This is about Yankumi then.

There’s no relief in that thought. The fear he felt before is nothing compared to the spike of dread shooting through him now. He can only think of one kind of people wanting to know about Yankumi.

Harada doesn’t seem bothered by Ryu’s silence. Instead, he pulls out more photos from the folder and begins tossing them across the seat to Ryu. “It’s highly unusual that someone like her would be at a school, and as a teacher no less.”

The photos begin to form a strange, slightly sickening collage of Ryu’s last months of high school. Every single of them seems to be taken from a distance and from strange angles. All of them show Yankumi in one way or another, but he’s in most of them too. So is Hayato, and even some of the other teachers. And they seem to be taken everywhere. Outside the school. On the road by the river. In front of Kuma’s shop.

It’s hard to see when they were taken, but one stands out to Ryu. It’s him and Hayato standing outside the Ooedo house, bowing slightly to Yankumi and her grandfather. It was taken the night they discovered her secret. It feels like years ago.

“You see, my boss is very interested in why the future clan leader is running around playing teacher,” says Harada. He pulls out another photo of Yankumi and hands it to Ryu, but this one is filled with students Ryu doesn’t know. He knows their type, though, with the dyed hair and unruly uniforms. “According to our information, she’s been doing this for some years now. Hopping from one school to another, always ending up in charge of the 3–D class. Now, why is that?”

Ryu carefully puts the photo down. He glances up at Harada, mouth dry, and says, “She’s a teacher.”

“Funny,” says Harada and looks anything but amused. “I think there might be a bit more to it than that. In fact,” the next photo he hands Ryu makes something cold run down his spine. It’s him talking to Yankumi’s grandfather. They’re standing in front of the house; the older man is smiling warmly and has put a hand on Ryu’s shoulder. “I think you might know something.”

He has to admit it looks very personal. Like the older man is giving him some kind of blessing. But it was nothing like that. It was a few days after the night he’d spend at Yankumi’s house. After the whole ordeal with his father coming and threatening her family, he’d returned, alone, to thank Kuroda for his help, and to apologize for all the trouble he’d caused. And just like his granddaughter, Kuroda had brushed aside his apology and only accepted his gratitude. “Anything for Kumiko’s students,” he’d said and smiled so kindly at Ryu, before urging him to hurry so he wouldn’t be late for school.

That’s all there was to it.

Ryu puts the photo down. “I don’t know anything.”

“Quite hard to believe,” says Harada unfaced. “Especially since my men tell me, you have been to the house no less than three times, and even spend a whole night there.”

How long have they been watching him to know that? Or was it just her and her house they have been watching? He looks down at the picture of the students he doesn’t know. How long ago was it taken?

“What do you want?” Ryu asks, almost afraid to know the answer.

“Ah, well.” Harada smiles, clearly happy that they’ve reached the subject of whatever this is. “As I said, my boss is very interested in knowing why the Ooedo heir is playing pretend and is quite willing to pay a bit for the information.”

Barely believing what he’s hearing, Ryu almost gapes openly as Harada pulls out a thick envelope from inside his coat and throws it unto Ryu’s lap. Even without opening it, Ryu knows what’s inside it.

He feels sick.

He gingerly takes it – it’s so heavy – and slowly puts it on top of the photos lying between him and Harada, as far away from himself as he can.

“I can’t help you,” he says and looks straight ahead. “I don’t know anything.”

Harada raises an eyebrow. “I really must urge you to reconsider.”

“I don’t know anything,” Ryu says again firmly. “Besides, I’m not interested.”

A thick silence falls between them, and even the driver shifts uncomfortably. Ryu can hear his pulse loudly in his ears, and he does his best to keep his eyes on the back of the seat in front of him. The seconds drag on as he waits, feeling like his whole body is humming.

“So, you’re refusing?” Harada asks, and there’s a threatening note to his voice.

Ryu nods.

Harada sighs. “I really hoped to avoid this.”

Ryu glances at him as he pulls out a phone. His face shows a mixture of annoyance and acceptance. “Seems like I have no choice.” He presses a button and waits for about three seconds before stuffing it back into his inner pocket.

The locks on the doors click loudly, and the one on Ryu’s side is pulled open. Ryu nearly falls out, having pressed himself up against it, but is grabbed by the shoulder and hauled out of the car. Instincts make him struggle, but hands grab him by the arms and hold him fast. The man from before is quick in searching through his pockets, pulling out his wallet. He throws over his shoulder and into the hands of one of his men. He then nods, and Ryu is practically picked up and carried over to the second car. He watches in horror as the car trunk is opened.

He kicks out and struggles the best he knows, but the men don’t seem the least bothered by his attempts to get free. They lift and shove him into the trunk, which closes forcefully above him.

In the pitch-black darkness, Ryu screams and yells and kicks out until his voice sounds more animal than human, but the trunk remains closed. Then he feels the car start op. He barely has time to shield his head before it moves violently, nearly sending him face-first into the metal side of the trunk.

Heart hammering and breathing heavily; the only thing Ryu can think to do is brace himself as the car continues to drive madly with him in the back.

~*~

“Hayato, give it a rest,” says Hyuuga as he walks into the living room, carrying plates and glasses. He begins to set the table, which is quite the puzzle since the small surface is already covered in takeout boxes, but he somehow manages. “He’s just a bit late, okay.”

“Two hours,” says Hayato without looking away from the screen of his phone. “When has Ryu ever been two hours late?”

“Has to be a first for everything,” yells Tsucchi from the kitchen, something that’s very unnecessary since the kitchen and living room are practically the same. Hayato ignores him and finds the last text Ryu send him. It was just before lunch and since then… nothing.

Hayato has texted and even called him since, but Ryu hasn’t answered once.

But it’s fine… right? It’s normal. Many people don’t answer their phones _every time_ it rings. And not everyone texts back. Hayato knows for a fact his dad can’t text, so there’s that.

Ryu can text. And he always answers. Always. Even in the middle of the night. Even if he was asleep.

He always answers.

And he’s never late.

“Try calling him again,” says Take, who hasn’t left Hayato’s side since the agreed time of meeting had passed, and Ryu still hadn’t shown up. The nervous smile on his face shows he’s worried as well, though clearly not as much as Hayato is.

Hayato nods and pushes the button, holding the phone to his ear. “It’s ringing,” he tells Take, who stares too intensely at him. Hayato frowns and pushes him back a bit. And then Hayato’s own voice is telling him to leave a message because Ryu is too lazy to say it himself.

“Where the hell are you?” Hayato hisses. “We’re waiting, and the food is getting cold, so get your ass over here now!”

“And bring snacks!” Take manages to yell before Hayato ends the call and throws his phone unto the table, knocking over a box of rice.

“Smooth,” says Hyuuga and picks it up.

“Shut it,” snaps Hayato and looks out the window. The sun is setting.

Tsucchi sits down beside him, flipping open his fan. “Relax, Hayato, he’ll show up. Ryu always does. Now, let’s eat.”

They divide the food unto the plates, but Hayato only pokes at his with his chopsticks. He isn’t really hungry anymore. The others eat and talk, apparently not worried at all, except for maybe Take, who glances at him once in a while.

When they’re done eating and begins to argue over which movie to watch, Hayato sneaks off to the bathroom to check his phone in private, after getting tired of the others telling him to relax.

Still nothing.

He tries to tell himself its perfectly normal. There could be a million reasons why Ryu hasn’t shown up or answered his phone. Stuff happens to people.

He tries to tell himself that, but there’s a nagging feeling in his gut that won’t go away.

Something is wrong.

~*~

He doesn’t dare to move.

The gun they shoved in his face when they opened the trunk is no longer pointing at him, but the man holding it is watching him intensely.

They’re all carrying one. He can see the telling bulge under their shirts or the grip sticking up from the back of their trousers. One of them keeps playing with his like he’s a cowboy in a western movie. He isn’t very good at it, and it makes Ryu nervous. It even bothers his friends, for one of them tells him to stop it. He just snorts and continues to sling the gun around.

He seems to be the youngest of the five, maybe even Ryu’s age. Unlike the others, he’s dressed in large, baggy clothes and has a bandana around his head. The others have more style with their suits and blazers, expensive shoes, and gold chains around their necks. When they move, Ryu catches a glimpse of the tattoos on their wrists and throats.

Ryu doesn’t dare to move. When he does, the chair he sits on creaks loudly, making all of them look at him. He tries to sit as still as possible, which is getting harder. He’s sore and pretty sure the trip inside the trunk gave him more bruises than Kudo and his gang ever did.

He has no idea where he is or how long it took to get there. He was busy trying not to get his head smashed in to take any notice of time. Besides, they could have driven around in circles to mess with him before coming here.

Wherever here is.

It looks like a warehouse, but that does little to help. The city is full of them. Unlike the others he’s seen though, this one is in use. Shelves are towering around him, stacked with crates and bags on pallets. He can’t read what’s written on them since the big red signs have been hastily crossed out with black paint. Smuggled goods, perhaps? Not that it matters. Ryu is in trouble no matter what’s in those crates.

Aside from being ordered to sit still as they tied his hands behind his back, no one has said anything to him. The men are watching him intensely, guarding him, but seems to be waiting for something. Someone.

They stick their heads together once in a while, or glance at their watches, impatiently or maybe even bored. But other than that, seems totally unfazed by watching over someone their boss kidnapped.

They wait for a long time, it seems. The only thing that makes them all attentive is when the idiot twirling his gun nearly drops it. He manages to catch it before it hits the floor and straightens up with an arrogant grin. Then he begins to spin it around again, making Ryu uncomfortable since he's sitting right in the line of fire should the fool mess up. Thankfully, he isn’t the only one. One of the men, who seem to be close to forty or something, suddenly moves quick as a snake and snatches the gun out of the idiot’s hand.

“Hey!” comes the protest. The man just ignores him as he looks over the gun. There’s a loud click as the safety is activated, and the young man has the grace to look a bit sheepish when the others glare at him. He doesn’t get the gun back, though, and looks like he’s about to protests when a tune can suddenly be heard somewhere in the warehouse.

Ryu freezes, recognizing it.

The tune plays, joined by footsteps that grow louder until a Harada suddenly steps into view. The five men all straighten to attention, while Ryu leans back in the chair, making it creak loudly as he tries to get as far away from the man as possible.

Harada has changed clothes since Ryu saw him last. His suit is now a light grey with a dark blue tie, and the smell of cologne is almost too overpowering. He’s smiling as he walks up to Ryu, holding something in his hand. Ryu recognizes his cellphone. Even shut, the screen on the front is blinking wildly, and the phone is thrilling away a tune to some pop song Hayato likes. He hijacked Ryu’s phone ages ago and put the song under his own name. It plays happily as Hayato’s name flashes on the screen.

“Someone’s very eager to talk to you,” says Harada and wiggles the phone back and forth between his fingers. The tune finally ends, and the screen turns dark, sending the warehouse into a strange silence. Harada then flips it open. He makes a low whistling sound. “Twenty missed call. Fourteen messages. This Hayato seems worried, wouldn’t you say?” He smiles at Ryu and raises a finger above the keyboard. “Should we call him back?”

Ryu almost jumps out of the chair. If he calls him… if Hayato even suspects that someone like Harada has Ryu…

He still remembers how quickly Hayato showed up after Kudo called him from Ryu’s phone. They’d both ended up locked away for the night, and despite the mess with the police, they’d still gotten off lightly.

Ryu doesn’t doubt Hayato will come for him, but these guys are nothing like Kudo.

The panic must have been all too visible on his face, for Harada snaps the phone shut and puts it away. “Smart boy,” he says. “Now, let’s see how smart.”

One of the other men brings him a chair, and Harada sits down in front of Ryu, looking very much at ease.

“So, let’s try again. If you want to work for me, then maybe you’re willing to keep your little buddy safe.”

Ryu shifts nervously in the chair.

Harada seems pleased. He crosses his legs and leans back. “Ready to answer my questions?”

Shit, shit, shit.

“I don’t know anything,” he says.

“Come now, don’t give me that.” Harada folds his hands in his lap like this is nothing but a business meeting. “Just tell me what the old man is planning. Why is his granddaughter running around like that?”

“She’s a teacher,” says Ryu, knowing it’s the wrong answer despite being the truth.

Harada narrows his eyes. He gets up and pulls out Ryu’s phone, flipping it open and holding it up close to Ryu.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says in a low voice. “That’s her name, right? Her nickname. Yankumi. You have her number. The two of you call each other, so don’t tell me she’s just your teacher. She recruited you, didn’t she? What does she tell you?”

Ryu stares at the screen. At her name.

His teacher.

Ryu made a decision a long time ago. He never forgot it, but it’s nice to be reminded. He didn’t really think it would matter after he left school, but clearly, he was wrong.

Ryu owes Yankumi, more than he can ever even imagine repaying. Not that she expects him to. Still, he’d long ago sworn to stand behind her. That morning, after staying at her house, after getting help from her family, he’d made a promise.

And hell if he’s going to break it now.

 _Call Hayato_ , Ryu thinks venomously. _She’ll come too, and I won’t feel sorry for you._

He looks away from the screen and meets Harada’s eyes. “Ask her yourself.”

The surprise on his face fills Ryu with smug satisfaction. He even thinks it’s worth it when Harada snaps his fingers, and one of the men steps forward, delivering a hard, backhanded slap to Ryu’s face. He nearly falls out of the chair.

“Not so smart after all,” says Harada, breathing hard like he was the one delivering the blow. “Want to try again?”

Ryu says nothing. His cheek stings.

“Fine, have it your way.” Harada lifts a hand. The man who hit Ryu steps over and grabs him by the hair, making him hiss from the pain.

“What is Kuroda planning?”

His heart is beating away as he tries to prepare himself. He stays silent even as he gets another backhand to the face. He can’t fall, not with the hand holding his hair, and it hurts.

“Why is Yamaguchi recruiting school kids?”

It’s a punch this time. He thinks his hair might tear out. His face hurts, but the blow was light, all things considered. The next one isn’t.

His hair is released, and he’s grabbed by the back of his shirt instead, held up so the next one, aimed at his stomach, doesn’t make him double over. The air is knocked out of him. Then he gets another to the face.

He’s almost relieved. This is a familiar pain, one he’s used to.

Besides, they’re not hitting him that hard. They must want him conscious for now, he thinks. He can handle it. Honestly, Hayato hit harder than this when he was mad at Ryu.

But Harada is impatient. Ryu can hear it in his voice, along with an annoyance than builds each time he repeats the question.

The world suddenly tilts, and Ryu realizes he’s falling headfirst out of the chair. He barely managed to twist his body, saving his nose from crushing against the floor. He lies there, expecting to be pulled up, but it doesn’t happen. The pain pulses through him.

Harada makes a growling sound. “Shit, I don’t have time for this. Call Youta, get him here.”

“And him?”

“Put him in the room and secure him. Youta will take care of the rest.” He looks down at Ryu, eyes narrowed and mouth in a tight line. “Stupid,” he says, and then curses loudly before stomping away.

Ryu is pulled off the floor by the back of his shirt. He nearly chokes until he’s once again sitting in the chair, gasping for air.

The idiot who played with the gun steps up to him, bringing the weapon close to Ryu’s face with a grin. He strokes Ryu’s throbbing cheek with the barrel. “Oh, you’re so fucked,” he whispers and is promptly smacked on the back of his head by one of the others.

“Just call him, you moron.”

“Yeah, yeah, chill, will you?” He steps away, and Ryu can’t help but breathe out relieved. He watches the idiot pull out a phone and a pack of cigarettes. He walks away and disappears among the shelves. It’s only then Ryu realizes there are only two men left alone with him. He has no idea where the other two went. Maybe with Harada.

Not that they need more than two. They grab Ryu by the arms and pull him along, through the warehouse, and he has to hold back a groan as the dull pain in his stomach sparks up. He doesn’t take much notice of where they go. He stumbles his way down stairs and down a hallway with cement floor, walls, and ceiling. Their steps echoes, and they finally reach a large room; only they don’t stop there. Ryu is dragged to another door, hidden in the corner. It’s dark inside, but it smells damp and musty.

He’s forced to sit on the floor. They remove the rope around his wrists and instead uses a pair of handcuffs to secure him to a thick pipe that runs from floor to ceiling.

Then they leave him alone in the dark.

~*~

He’ll never like the taste of coffee, but Hayato still clings to the can with both hands, hoping the caffeine will help him stay awake.

The content has long since turned cold, worsening the taste, so he keeps the sips small and can’t help make a face each time, all the while watching the house intensely. There’s been no change all night. Aside from a few neighbors coming home way too late, staggering around drunk, the street has been empty and quiet.

And so is the Odagiri house. The gates are locked and the windows dark, as they have been ever since Hayato sat down on the curb on the other side of the street. Despite it being a nice neighborhood, no one has bothered him. Maybe they’re just not used to trouble here. It’s a funny thought to him.

He watches the house and sips his cold coffee and waits for Ryu.

It’s the last thing he can think of.

Ryu doesn’t answer his phone, so Hayato has been left with very few choices. The house is maybe his most desperate one. He hates it, despite only having been near it three times.

He knows, of course, that Ryu still lives with his parents. He’s going to attend university after the summer break – a late start compared to others – and has spent most of his time searching for his own place. Hayato likes that idea. The house somehow pisses him off. Despite Ryu managing to make a deal with his dad to stay in Japan, the bastard still seems to hate Hayato and the others.

According to Ryu, he no longer… what is the word he always uses? … _encourage_ Ryu to make new friends. He seems to have accepted his son’s old classmates. To some degree, at least. They’re still not welcome at the house. Not that Hayato would spend time there anyway.

Ryu’s parents aren’t home, since they usually spend the summer visiting family in the south, and then goes to China or France, or something like that. Ryu’s been alone in the house since summer began, at least when he isn’t crashing at Hayato’s place, which has been more and more recently.

He’d hoped Ryu would spend this night as well. He’s bought some new CDs he wanted Ryu to listen to, not that Ryu ever seems to appreciate Hayato’s attempts to broaden his horizon. Ryu’s music taste is close to non-existing. It’s a good thing he has Hayato.

Yeah, a good thing.

Of only Hayato knew where _he_ has Ryu.

He stares at the house, still dark and empty. 

The others hadn’t been nearly as worried as Hayato, and he’d ended up leaving their movie night earlier than usual. Worried out of his mind, he’s done a quick sweep of their usual places, the café, the mall, the arcade, the skating park close to school. Even Kuma’s shop, which was closing down when Hayato reached it, and no one there had seen Ryu in a few days. Hayato then decided to wait. Ryu has to come home at some point, right?

Right.

He pulls out his phone.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s called Ryu. Lost count of the voicemails and texts. He just tries again and again, hoping each time Ryu will answer. Hayato has prepared a whole speech and is ready to tear into Ryu, demanding that he better come up with a damn good excuse for blowing him off like this.

But Ryu doesn’t answer. Again.

Groaning in frustration, Hayato almost throws his phone aside but manages to stop himself. He can’t afford a new one. He takes another sip of the cold coffee and nearly gags. Gross.

He stares at the house. He’ll wait, he decides, all night is necessary, and when Ryu finally shows up, Hayato is going to kick his ass.

~*~

In the basement of his junior high, there was an old laundry room with washers and dryers. They were old, broken, and no longer in use, just like the room itself. In fact, he’s pretty sure no one really knew about the place. There were no windows, and it took a while to get down there.

Ryu never found out how Hayato came across it. Back then, he’d refused to tell, enjoying having a secret, and Ryu had just stopped asking him, not willing to give him the satisfaction of having said secret.

It had been their place. A hideout. They’d tried smoking for the first time down there, and Take had gotten so sick he’d thrown up. They had to take him to the nurse, who saw through their lies easily. They didn’t dare smoke on school ground again, but they still went down to the laundry room to hang out, or just to hide from the teachers and the older students. After Hayato’s mother died, Hayato sometimes used a pipe to beat the broken machines. It had made so much noise, Ryu feared they would get caught, but no one ever came. Hayato had always been a bit more relaxed afterward.

Ryu is never going to forget that room. They had fun down there.

Which is why it really annoys him that the boiler room he’s currently in smells exactly the same.

It doesn’t look the same, thankfully, but it’s pretty close. Walls and floors made of concrete. Thick pipes running back and forth in every direction, but instead of the machines, two large boilers stand in one end of the room, taking up most of the space. The light from the bulb hanging from the ceiling doesn’t reach the entire room, leaving the corners hidden in shadows.

The door is right in front of Ryu, but there’s no way he’s ever going to reach it, not while being handcuffed like this.

His arms hurt. The pipe he’s practically hugging is thick and makes it impossible for him to lie down. Instead, he rests his arms on his legs and tries not to move his wrists too much. The only comfort is that the pipe doesn’t run with hot water. Instead, he can rest his aching cheek against the cold metal.

He can’t do anything about the soreness in the rest of his body. The trip in the trunk and the few punches he got afterward has left a dull ache all over, and sitting on the damp floor really isn’t helping.

Neither is the fact that he’s bored.

He’s actually a bit surprised that he manages to feel bored in his current situation. Maybe he’s been in too many dangers over the years since he so quickly went from panic to fear to worry, and finally to a calmness that slowly turned into boredom.

The only person he’s seen since Harada’s interrogation was a man Ryu didn’t recognize, who only stayed long enough int the room to turn on the light and throw Ryu a plastic bag with a sandwich and a water bottle. It must have been hours ago.

His stomach still hurt, but he managed to eat a few bites before he began to feel ill. He’d stuck to water since then.

He has no idea what time it is when they come for him, or how long he’s been sitting in the room. But he must have dozed off, for when the door opens, he jerks his head up and feels a bit dizzy.

It’s the same two men who left him here, along with the younger one whose name is just Idiot in Ryu’s mind now. The two walk straight over to Ryu and uncuffs him. He doesn’t get to enjoy it at all. They drag him to his feet and into the light.

Then the fourth man enters. He strides into the room and stops in front of Ryu, studying him closely.

“Kuroda picks them young these days,” he mutters, seemingly to himself. He places a finger beneath Ryu’s chin and lifts his head up, so their eyes met. “Pretty.”

A shiver runs down Ryu’s back, and he pulls his head away, making the newcomer chuckle before grabbing Ryu, this time digging his fingers into his cheeks and holding him in place as he leans in. “I’m Youta,” he says. “Don’t worry; you’ll not forget my name anytime soon. Nice to meet you.”

~*~

He’s sitting on his bed when Taku walks past their shared bedroom, only to stop up and then backtrack. He stares at Hayato.

“You look like hell,” he says. Hayato is too tired to come up with a witty retort, so he just gives Taku the finger before yawning loudly. Taku snorts and heads for the kitchen with a smile. Brat.

Hayato has to force himself not to fall back into bed. He’s only been sleeping for three hours and has to be at work in less than two. He really hates morning shifts.

Feeling like his head is wrapped in cotton, he looks at his phone, only to throw it unto his bed when he sees Ryu still hasn’t called.

“Breakfast!” yells Taku. Hayato slowly gets up and stares into the empty air. His brain is painfully slow this morning. He decides to take a shower and then stop by Ryu’s house on his way to work. Maybe he came home after Hayato left. Maybe.

Before he heads for the bathroom, he snatches up his phone.

~*~

“When did you join the Ooedo family?”

Ryu swallows thickly. “I’m not a part of the family.”

He gets a fist to the stomach, and it knocks all air out of him. He gasps and curls forward, only to be pulled back up again.

“When did you join the family?”

“I never did,” Ryu whispers.

Blood begins to pour from his nose as he’s struck across the face.

~*~

He looks up when he hears his name being called. The backdoor to the store is open, and his boss is glaring at him.

“Get back to work, Yabuki, the place is packed!”

“Coming!” he yells and quickly hides his phone away. The text he got from Take hadn’t been useful anyway. It just said the same as yesterday. None of them has heard from Ryu. At least they’re getting uneasy now.

It only took two days, he thinks bitterly.

But they apologized so he can’t really be mad at them. And they’re helping now, looking around. Hayato wants to look too, but they all tell him to work his shifts, reminding him he needs the money. They’re right, of course. He just feels he need Ryu more.

~*~

The questions come in a steady stream, as does the punishment for not giving the right answers.

What is Kuroda planning? I don’t know.

Pain.

Why is the heir working at a school? She’s a teacher.

Pain.

Tell me about their plans! I don’t know anything.

Pain.

Pain.

 _Pain_.

When Ryu is hanging from their hands, not able to stand by himself anymore, and with blood dripping from his mouth, they finally stop. There’s a strange ringing in his ears, and his blurred vision hopefully means his left eye just is swelling up, and not actually damaged.

Or maybe it’s the right eye. He isn’t sure.

He’s pulled upright by the hair, and Youta inspects Ryu’s bruised face like he’s assessing his handiwork. He doesn’t seem satisfied.

“Let’s try again.”

At some point, he stops listening to the questions. It doesn’t matter; his answers will always be the same.

_I don’t know anything._

Youta doesn’t believe him.

~*~

They all look at him, waiting for him to give them the plan. The formation.

He’s got nothing. Take tries to help.

“What if we look by the harbor? Maybe he took a job at one of the warehouses?”

“Yeah, or in a club,” Hyuuga suggests. Tsucchi nods and begins to lists all the clubs he knows. There’re surprisingly many.

Hayato doesn’t really listen to them, though.

He’s got nothing.

~*~

They don’t turn off the light when they leave him, and he stares up into the blurry light.

He’s so thirsty. Everything tastes of blood, and his mouth is dry and oddly sticky. He just wants to sleep, but he can’t look away from the light.

When they return for him and ask questions, he’s so tired; he almost falls asleep. Youta yells and strikes him, promptly knocking him out by accident. He gladly slips into the darkness.

~*~

She doesn’t give up. She doesn’t, but she still pushes the papers aside with a frustrated groan in favor of rubbing her temples with her fingertips.

“Still nothing?” her grandfather asks. He’s sitting in the open door leading to the garden, enjoying the cool evening air.

“No,” Yankumi sighs. “Just cram schools and kindergartens.”

He gives her a warm smile. “You’ll find something. You always do.”

“But when?” She can’t help but whine a bit. It’s been months since she left Kurogin and her students behind. She needs something to do, and soon or she’ll go crazy.

She knows her grandfather and the rest of the house feels the same. Out of sheer boredom, she’d decided to help out more around the house, and even tried cooking a few times. The result had been close to disastrous. They all assured her it tasted good, and that the pot could easily be replaced, but she’d still kept out of the kitchen since. Instead, she’d helped out in the garden. Pulling out weeds were easier, and no one got food poisoning. 

If only she’d slowed down a bit. The garden is now weed-free, and she, once again, has nothing to do. She’s right back to where she began. Bored and jobless.

It’s frustrating but nothing new. She’s been in this situation before, but something always seemed to pop up pretty quickly. It’s been weeks now without a reply from a school.

Even a rejection will have helped. At least that means her application has reached the schools. Also, one grows strong from adversity. She truly believes that.

It’s just so boring.

“Maybe you should stop for tonight,” her grandfather suggests. “You won’t get anywhere if you worry yourself sick.”

“I guess…” she says, but she still reaches for the newspaper and flips through it, looking over the pages without much heart.

Before she can sink into a darker mood, however, her phone rings. She digs it out of her pocket and looks at the name on the screen with surprise. She flips it open and answers it. “Yabuki?”

“ _Yankumi! Can you talk?_ ” He sounds upset. She sits up straight.

“Yes. Yabuki, is everything all right?”

“ _No, no, it’s really not_ ,” he says, and there’s a slightly hysterical note to his voice. “ _Ryu is missing_.”

For a second, she doesn’t know what to say. “What do you mean missing?” she asks slowly. Her grandfather looks at her, frowning slightly. 

“ _I mean he’s gone,_ ” says Yabuki, the hysterical tone growing a bit. “ _I haven’t heard from him in days. Days!_ ”

“Yabuki, that hardly means he’s missing,” she says, but Yabuki isn’t listening.

“ _He doesn’t answer his phone, and he never calls back, no matter how many messages I leave him._ ”

“Yabuki…”

“ _I been by his house but no one is home, not even his parents. They’re out traveling, and all the windows are dark._ ”

“Yabuki.”

“ _The others don’t know where he is either! He’s just gone!_ ”

“Yabuki!” she snaps, and finally, the boy stops talking. “Calm down, all right? I’m sure he’s not missing. Maybe he’s traveling with his parents.”

“ _He’s not,_ ” says Yabuki, suddenly very calm. “ _He would have told me._ ” He sounds so certain.

“Are you sure?”

“ _He promised. No more secrets._ ”

A promise. She closes her eyes. Those boys will rather get beaten up than break a promise. They already have been.

“All right,” she says, and the other end goes so quiet, she suspects Yabuki is even holding his breath. “Why don’t you come to my house and tell me everything then.”

“ _Thank you,_ ” he breathes, so relieved it rattles her a bit. He’s really worried then. “ _I’ll be there soon._ ” He hangs up before she can say anything else. Looking up, she jerks back a little, surprised at seeing the entire household sitting before her, watching her intensely.

“What’s going on?” Tetsu asks.

“I’m not sure,” she says and shuts her phone closed. “Yabuki thinks Odagiri is missing.”

They all know the boys, of course, and she can see the worry appear on all their faces.

“Missing?” her grandfather asks.

“Perhaps it’s nothing,” she says, staring at her phone. “Perhaps…” She looks up. “He’s coming over.”

“Tetsu, please prepare some tea,” says her grandfather. Tetsu immediately jumps up and goes to the kitchen with Minoru right behind him. Wakamatsu gets up as well, laying out cushions and cleans up the mess Yankumi has left on the table.

Yankumi looks at her grandfather, but while there’s concern to see in his eyes as well, he has nothing to say yet. They wait for Yabuki, who arrives sooner than expected.

She’s only seen him a handful of times since graduation, and every time he seems just a bit older to her. She knows he works odd jobs here and there and has no plans of going to university next year. Still, it’s clear he’s growing up. His hair is longer than before, and he seems stronger. Perhaps that’s the reason it shocks her to see the evident worry on his face. Along with the dark shadows beneath his eyes, he looks very young and very tired.

What is nice to see, is that he clearly feels more comfortable in her house, and even accepts the tea from Tetsu with a smile, despite not touching it at all afterward. When she sits down beside him, he doesn’t hesitate to show her his cellphone.

“This is the last text I got from Ryu.”

She looks at the screen. Four days ago. The text is simple, and very Odagiri in style, especially compared to the stream of messages from Yabuki, all filled with smiley’s and spelling mistakes (she ignores this for the moment), and merely saying _Okay_.

“We texted all morning, but after this one, he just stopped answering,” says Yabuki. “I tried calling but nothing. No answer. Yesterday, it began going straight to voicemail.”

Which either means, Odagiri has turned off his phone, or the battery is dead. Yabuki is watching her intensely.

“I’m not sure this meant–“ she begins, but he cuts her off.

“Please listen to me,” he says. “I called everyone. Everyone, I know. Everyone Ryu knows. No one has seen him, not even Take or Hyuuga. No one! There’s no one at his house, and I looked everywhere else.”

He sounds a bit desperate, and the pleading look in his eyes is hard to look at. This close, it's much easier to see he doesn’t look like himself. His hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in a while. It’s tied back messily by a hairband. His clothes look rumbled and lack the usual style Yabuki always seems to have. It’s a stark contrast to the boy she remembers from Kurogin, who always took great pride in his looks.

His eyes are painfully wide. “I don’t know what else to do,” he whispers.

Common sense tells her Yabuki is probably overreacting. While it is a bit odd for Odagiri not to answer, there can still be hundreds of reasons for him not to. She wants to reassure Yabuki of this, but…

No. It doesn’t feel right. Yankumi isn’t going to proclaim that she knows her former students in and out, but she knows their friendship. Their loyalty to each other. Yabuki is right. Even without a promise, Odagiri would have said something.

The look on Yabuki’s face cuts deeply into Yankumi, but it’s the strange feeling inside her, familiar and strong that keeps nudging her.

It just doesn’t feel right.

Behind Yabuki, her grandfather catches her eye. With a look she knows all too well, he nods slightly.

“Right,” she says. “We’re not going to find him sitting here, are we?”

Yabuki seems stunned for a moment before getting up and practically running to the front door. Yankumi smiles slightly before feeling it fade.

Odagiri is probably fine, she tells herself.

Still, the feeling nudges at her. 

~*~

The leather belt wrapped around his wrist is digging into his skin. As is the thick chain looped around the belt, keeping his arms raised above his head. Not enough, so he’s hanging from the ceiling, but enough that the strain on his already hurting shoulders grows worse with every minute.

Ryu is trying his best to keep the weight off his arm, but his legs are shaking badly. He constantly has to adjust his stance, or they’d buckle beneath him. It isn’t easy, especially not since the men standing around him apparently find it very amusing to shove him or kick out at his feet, so he has to stagger back and forth, trying to avoid falling.

They laugh whenever he stumbles over his own feet.

He wishes he still had his boots. His bare feet are almost numb with cold, and he can’t seem to make them move fast enough. They slip on the damp floor, which also scratches the skin of his toes when he takes a step, or when he tries to remain still, fighting against the push they give him. He fears he might have ripped off a nail at some point, but he has no way to make sure.

He doesn’t really care, though. It hurts, but everything seems to hurt. His arms, his feet, his head. There’s a constant dull pounding behind his eyes, and his wrists are sore from being tied up with the belt. His lip hurts. His eye. His stomach, though he isn’t sure if it’s from hunger or the punches. Aside from the sandwich, they’ve haven’t given him anything but a small onigiri at some point. He doesn’t remember when, and it feels like his stomach has curled up into a tight ball inside him, constantly aching and calling for something it’ll never get. At least not from these people.

Not that he has asked. He hasn’t asked anything of them. He knows that’s what they want him to do. To talk. Begging them to stop, or for some water and food is just the opening they want. There’s no way he’s giving them that.

When the pain becomes too much, and he’s close to letting the words slip, he quickly falls back to those much safer to say _. I don’t know anything_.

They don’t believe him. Something they’ve made very clear since he was forced into the car. It feels like a lifetime ago.

His only comfort, if it can even be called that, is that they’ve stopped hitting him in the face. It’s the one part of him they can’t afford to damage. After Youta accidentally knocked him out, he’s changed tactic. They still slap him, again and again, making his face burn, but they don’t use their fists anymore.

He’s begun to flinch whenever one of them comes too close. The Idiot has discovered this and keeps swinging his bokken right in front of him, laughing loudly whenever Ryu flinches and moves back.

He doesn’t scare Ryu, not really. Unlike the rest of them, the Idiot is nothing but a high school dropout too dumb to understand what kind of people he’s with. No, he doesn’t scare Ryu.

Youta does.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the door behind Ryu opens. The men stop their game and step away from Ryu. They hide in the shadows like a bunch of dramatic morons.

He hears him walk around to his front but doesn’t bother to look up.

Youta.

His name is all Ryu knows about the man. Aside from his love of knives.

He’s one of those men whose age is impossible to determine. He’s handsome with dark eyes, and his hair is carefully styled in a way that seems more appropriate for a business meeting and not a place like this. He’s much taller than Ryu and only wears black clothes. His favorite look appears to be trousers and a simple shirt, always with the sleeves rolled up, so his tattoos are on full display. Faces of demons stare down at Ryu with tongues sticking out between fangs and fire springing from their eyes.

Whenever he draws his arm back to land a blow, it’s like they move across his skin. Like they grin at the pain about to be inflicted.

Ryu has begun to dream about them. He tries not to look at their faces. Instead, he lets his head fall forward and closes his eyes, but it doesn’t really help.

“So,” drawls Youta, and Ryu hates how the sound of his voice is enough to make his shake slightly. “The boss is getting impatient. Very much actually, so he has decided to give me free reins.” He sounds happy.

Ryu’s head is wrenched back as Youta grabs him by the hair. He hisses and is forced to look into the other man’s face. “Do you know what that means?” Youta grins when Ryu doesn’t answer. “It means playtime is over.” He leans in close, and the smell of nicotine fills Ryu’s nostrils. “The real stuff begins now.”

He lets go of Ryu, so roughly he sways a bit and then steps away. Ryu closes his eyes tightly. His heart begins to beat faster in his chest, and his mouth goes dry. He tries to steel himself, but his body just starts to tremble.

He hears Youta return, and he steps up close to Ryu, who can smell his cologne. It’s almost as bad as the nicotine stench. He almost opens his eyes when Youta grabs the middle finger on his left hand.

Something cold touches the tip of his finger. It grabs his nail and…

He screams as the nail is torn from his finger in one clean pull. He throws his head back, eyes wide, and sees Youta inspect something small and covered in blood between the jaws of a pair of pliers. He turns it back and forth, looking pleased, and Ryu realizes it’s his nail.

He’s shaking madly now. Blood runs down his finger, which throbs painfully. He makes the mistake of clenching his hand shut and bites back another scream at the pressure against his bare flesh.

“One,” says Youta and tosses the bloody nail aside, reaching for Ryu’s index finger.

Without thinking, Ryu brings up his knee, catching Youta on the thigh dangerously close to his crotch. It clearly doesn’t hurt, but it catches Youta off guard. He stumbles back and drops the pliers, only to rush forward with a furious look on his face. He backhands Ryu across the face with more force than ever, and it nearly knocks Ryu clean off his feet.

The slap stuns him so much he doesn’t notice Youta working until another nail is ripped off and held up in front of him.

“Two,” says Youta, his smile gone. “Eight to go.”

Ryu licks his lips and flinches as it stings. It must have split again. The nail is so close he can barely focus on it, and instead, he meets Youta’s dark eyes.

“I didn’t know you could count.”

The shocked look on Youta’s face confuses Ryu for a second until he realizes it was him who just spoke. For a long moment, all Ryu can hear is the sound of his own heart thundering away. Then Youta opens his hand, and the pliers clatter to the floor.

The demons grin and Youta hits Ryu so hard in the stomach, he swings back, his toes scraping across the floor. Everything hurts, and he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

Youta hits him again and again, and Ryu wonders why he said it. He doesn’t know.

He does know that he’s not going to say anything else. Black dots begin to dance across his vision. And he can’t breathe.

Youta steps up close and grabs his hand.

He can’t kick out this time. He can barely see. He can’t _breathe_.

And he can’t scream as Youta tears off another nail, and then another, and then, apparently just for good measure, breaks his finger as well.

~*~

A week.

A whole bloody, damn, cursed, _fucking_ week, and there’s still no sign of Ryu.

Hayato is at his wit's end. He has no idea what to do anymore. None of them do.

Yankumi has spent every day searching with him, asking around, seeking out places and people who might know something. She’s even asked her family to help, and Hayato had hoped guys like them might come up with something. But no.

Ryu is gone.

When day ten rolls by, Hayato is once again sitting outside the Odagiri house all night, watching like he always does when he’s out of ideas. By morning, the housekeeper arrives. The sight of her shocks him so much, he nearly misses his chance to call out to her. In the very last second, he yells out and runs over.

She recognizes him. The staff always liked him more than Ryu’s dad ever did, and she gives him an answer, though not the one he wants.

“The young master told his parents he’s taking a trip.”

Hayato stares at her. “A trip? Where?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. The master just informed me I didn’t have to clean and cook every day since the young master isn’t home at the moment.”

It doesn’t make sense. “And Ryu called his dad and told him this?”

She looks thoughtful for a moment. “No, he wrote, I think. Yes, he wrote and said he would call later and tell when he planned to return home.”

Slightly stunned, Hayato thanks her, and she enters the house, turning on the lights for the first time in ages. He stays on the sidewalk as the sun rises higher and higher, waking up the neighborhood. The windows in Ryu’s room remains dark.

~*~

He can’t sleep.

The mattress they’ve dragged into the room isn’t bad in itself, but it smells, and the blanket barely covers him even when he curls up, so he doesn’t bother. It’s hard anyway, with his hand arm raised slightly, handcuffed to the pipe running above his head. It’s uncomfortable. His wrist is swollen and rubbed raw, but it’s the sight of his fingers that turns his stomach. He can’t stand to look at them.

He closes his eyes and pretends he’s asleep until they come for him.

~*~

His boss drags him outside and shoves him away from the door. “What the hell is going on with you, Yabuki?” he yells. Hayato doesn’t answer. He stands with his back to the man, clenching his fists and taking some deep breaths, and his boss continues.

“Losing your temper like that! And over spilled coffee? This better not repeat itself, or I swear I’ll fire your ass, do you understand?”

There’re coffee stains on his shoes now, along with his trousers.

The whole alley behind the café looks like it’s stained.

“Yabuki?”

So, what if he yelled? The idiot couldn’t even put a lid on a cup properly. How stupid can you be?

“Yabuki, are you listening to me?”

Who cares anyway? It’s just coffee.

His boss grabs him by the t-shirt and turns him around, bringing them face to face. He looks pissed. “I said, are you listening to me?”

“No,” says Hayato, and watches the red color in his employer’s cheeks grow darker. He breathes in deeply, seemingly growing where he stands, before opening his mouth and starts yelling. Hayato isn’t listening, but after a few moments, he gets annoyed. He punches the man right in the face, making him release Hayato and stumble back, holding his cheek.

He looks at Hayato with tears in his eyes and screams he’s fired.

Hayato walks past him and into the café, throwing his apron aside and grabs his jacket. Then he goes home.

Taku has left out some dinner on the table, and he eats it without tasting it. He throws the bowl into the sink, and it breaks. He stares at the colored shards before going to the small cabinet in the small living room and pulls out a few bottles. He doesn’t know the difference between good and bad alcohol and just chooses at random, opening them without care, and drinks whatever’s in it.

~*~

It takes a few cuts, but then he doesn’t really feel the rest. Youta is careful in his work and eyes Ryu’s skin like it’s a painting he’s making, seemingly searching for the right place to put his knife. The cuts are light and stings but barely bleed. Probably won’t even scar.

The feeling of steel against his skin makes his shiver.

Youta likes to bring it close to his eyes, cutting slightly at the skin or prick his eyelids with the tip of the blade. Ryu tries not to flinch but fails every time. When Youta finally makes a cut just below his right eye, he feels the blood run down his cheek and run along his lips.

He spits it out, but it keeps streaming down. He tries not to open his mouth. The blood then runs down his chin.

~*~

She can barely believe it. With shaking fingers, she opens the letter and unfolds the paper, and her heart nearly jumps into her throat as she reads. A school wants her. As a teacher.

A school wants her as a teacher, and she’s to begin when the new term begins. As soon as summer vacation ends, she’s teaching again. She quickly scans the information about the school. It’s close by. Not one of the most prestigious once, but she’s sure she’s heard about it before.

They offer her a position as the homeroom teacher for a second-year class, along with being a math teacher, with at least six months of employment and a chance of a permanent position after new year.

It’s incredible and almost too good to be true, so just to make sure, she calls the school which confirms it.

It’s an immense relief, and one she hasn’t felt in a long time. She has a job.

~*~

Hayato wakes up to them standing around him, looking less than impressed.

“How did you even get this?” Take asks and holds the empty bottle out in front of him, like it’s a bomb he fears might explode.

“M’ dad’s,” Hayato slurs and rolls over to lie on his back. The floor is moving. It feels like being on a boat. Has Hayato ever been on a boat? He can’t remember.

And he can’t remember opening the door, so how did Take, Tsucchi and Hyuuga even get in? They stand like towers above him, and it looks like they sway. Do they feel the floor moving too? The swaying makes it hard to focus on their faces, but he has a feeling they somehow disapprove of the state they’ve found him in.

Honestly, he kind of disapproves himself. He feels sick.

A clatter comes from the kitchen as Take throws out the bottle. Hyuuga begins to collect the rest, while Tsucchi sits down beside Hayato, tapping his fan slightly against his hand.

“What are you doing?” he asks and sounds so damn grown-up it makes Hayato want to throw up.

“Nothing.” Nothing he wants to talk about, anyway. The clanging from the kitchen continues, and it makes his eyes throb painfully. He groans loudly and covers them with an arm. “How did you even get in?”

“Taku called me,” says Tsucchi. “I told him to go hang out with his friends and let us handle… this.”

It feels like his stomach twists around itself when he hears this. Taku. Shit, he’d forgotten about his brother. He lets his arms fall away and stares up at the ceiling. “Did he see me?”

Tsucchi snorts. “What do you think?”

“Maybe don’t drink and pass out in the living room,” Hyuuga suggests and puts a glass of water on the table. Hayato takes a sip and makes a face when it tastes weird. It feels weird going down as well. Actually, very, very weird.

He sits up so fast everything spins and then scrambles to his feet. He runs to the bathroom and falls to his knees, practically stinking his head into the toilet and throws up. Beer and sake do not taste good mixed and coming up back up again. And it stinks. He gags and throws up again.

A hand pats him on the shoulder, and he groans loudly.

“Get it all out,” says Tsucchi, not unkindly. Hayato throws up again. It feels like his stomach is trying to crawl out of his body. His throat burns.

When the heaving finally stops, Hayato’s head hurts but feels a bit clearer. The floor isn’t moving anymore, but the whole bathroom stinks of vomit. It doesn’t help with the nausea, so when Hayato extracts his head from the toilet, he still stays within reach. “Kill me,” he groans.

“Sorry, can’t do,” says Tsucchi and opens the small window, letting in some fresh air. He sounds a bit too smug for Hayato’s taste. “You deserve this.”

“Bastard.”

“Guys?” Take sticks his head into the bathroom and immediately wrinkles up his nose. “Oh, gross.”

“Shut it,” says Hayato.

“Breakfast is ready,” Take says and quickly leaves. At the mention of food, Hayato almost throws up again. Tsucchi taps him on the arm with the fan, like he doesn’t want to touch him with his hands.

“Get up.”

Hayato is tempted to tell him to go fuck himself, but nothing good will come from that. Tsuchi makes him rinse out his mouth and wash his face before he helps him back to the living room. Take and Hyuuga has cleaned up after his little one-man-party and has served a simple breakfast on the table. Tsucchi steers him over and helps him sit down beside Hyuuga, who loads his plate.

He stares at the food, wondering how they expect him to eat anything ever again.

“Come one,” says Hyuuga and nudges him with an elbow. “It helps. I promise.” There’s something in his tone that suggests he actually knows what he’s talking about, and the small part of Hayati’s mind that’s not currently wallowing in self-pity takes notice. But this isn’t the right time. He makes a mental note to look into it later and then tries to eat.

“So, are you going to explain this?” Tsucchi asks and gestures to all of Hayato with his chopsticks.

“Not really,” says Hayato and takes another bite, surprised when he doesn’t throw it all up at once. “It’s nothing.”

“Drinking like that isn’t nothing,” says Take in a low voice, like someone might hear him. He looks small, sitting next to Tsucchi, who tends to spread out as much as he can. He actually looks huge in Hayato’s tiny living room. “You’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah, well, Ryu has never disappeared before either, so I guess we’re all doing something new, right?”

They all stop eating and look at him.

“We’re all worried, Hayato,” says Tsucchi. “But this isn’t the way to deal with it.”

“Then how should I deal?” Hayato demands to know. “Ryu is freaking gone. Not even his parents care!”

“Of course, they do,” says Take. “They just think he’s taking a trip.”

“Don’t give me that,” Hayato says and throws his chopstick unto the table. “They know nothing about him. If they did, they’d know Ryu wouldn’t do something like that. They just don’t give a shit. No one does.”

“Hey!” says Tsucchi sharply. “We all care okay, so calm down.”

“Oh yeah?” Hayato gets up on his knees, so he’s at least somewhat at eye-level with Tsucchi. “And how do you show it? All you do is work; you’re not even out there looking for him!”

“And you’re _drinking_ instead of looking!” Tsucchi shoots back, also rising.

Hayato jumps to his feet. “I looked! I looked everywhere!”

Tsucchi gets up as well, looking down at Hayato. “Then why haven’t you found him yet?”

Take gasps. “Tsucchi!”

Hayato reaches out and grabs Tsucchi by the front of his shirt. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“You said you’ve been looking everywhere,” Tsucchi snarls, “then why haven’t you found him yet?”

Hayato can’t believe it. Is Tsucchi blaming _him_?

“I looked everywhere,” he hisses, fighting the urge to actually hit Tsucchi.

“Clearly, you didn’t, or you’d have found him.”

He stares at Tsucchi, who looks deadly serious.

It would be so easy to hit him. To jump across the table and tackle him to the floor, and a part of Hayato wants to. He can feel the urge well up inside him, and he realizes he’s angry.

He’s angry as hell.

He’s so angry he feels like he can barely hold it in. And he’s angry at everyone. Tsucchi, Take and Hyuuga, Yankumi, Ryu and his parents, and… himself. 

Hayato is so fucking angry at himself. Why hasn’t he found Ryu yet? What is wrong with him? What kind of person is he if he can’t even find Ryu, his best friend?

And what does he do? He drinks. He fucking drinks like one of those adults who can’t do anything but drown their sorrows. But he doesn’t know what else to do. He wants to scream and hit something, but what good is that going to do?

Nothing helps.

Nothing at all.

The anger drains from him, as suddenly as it came.

“I don’t know what to do,” he says, and the words almost turns into a sob. He lets go of Tsucchi and sinks back down to the floor. “I don’t know where he is.”

He can feel them all watch him. He wants to curl up and hide, but he’s never cowered before and isn’t about to now. “I don’t know what to do.”

Hyuuga touches his shoulder lightly. “Then why do you blame yourself for not finding him?”

He doesn’t want their comfort. Logical words or clever speeches. He just wants someone to blame. Someone to yell at, to hit, to make them pay for all this misery. He just wants Ryu back.

He never gets what he wants.

“I’m scared,” he says. “What if he really left? Took a trip and just… never told me.”

“Hayato,” says Tsucchi in that grown-up voice again, and it’s enough to make Hayato look up at him. “It’s Ryu. He would never do that.”

They all look at him and seem so sure about this. He wants to believe them.

He’s always prided himself on how well he knew Ryu. Knew him better than anyone.

Ever since they were kids, and Ryu was sitting quietly in the classroom, Hayato’d always been able to read him. He never said much, even to the teacher, but Hayato always understood him. Besides, he could talk enough for both of them.

It had been like that until Ryu bowed to Ara High, breaking everything apart.

How stupid it had been. All of it. Both of them.

If Ryu had just _told_ him, then…

Maybe that’s why this is tearing him apart. If Ryu has really gone by himself, then he’s chosen not to tell Hayato. He’s put him aside. Again. The thought is almost enough to crush him.

So is the guilt.

Maybe he’s not really angry at himself. Maybe it’s disgust. Because he doesn’t really blame himself for not having found Ryu yet, no, it’s so much worse than that.

He _hopes_ something has happened to Ryu, for at least that means he hasn’t left Hayato behind.

He’s truly the worst.

“I lost my job,” he says, just to say something that isn’t the dark thoughts in his head. It’s bad enough he knows how horrible he is. They don’t need to know as well.

“We’ll help you get another,” says Take.

“Yeah, we’ll help,” says Hyuuga.

He wants to believe them.

But when does he ever get what he wants?

~*~

He can’t remember when they stopped asking questions. He just one day realizes they have.

They’re doing it for fun now. Laughing as the tears run down his cheeks from the pain, and he knows it’s bad. They took him for information, and if they have stopped asking, it can only mean they’ve gotten it from somewhere else, or they have given up on getting it from him.

Either way, he’s just entertainment for them now. And even that can’t last.

When they leave him alone, he wonders if this is it. Will this be the last time before they end it?

They keep coming back, though.

They change their treatment of him. Fear seems to amuse them more than pain. Only Youta continues his work with the knives, making him bleed, though not as much as before.

Something is coming. It’s like he can feel it.

He waits. And then it happens.

They rush into the room and drag him to his feet. They don’t string him up as they usually do, but instead force his arms behind his back and wraps the belt around his wrists. Youta stands before him, listening to the phone pressed to his ear. He looks at Ryu and then nods.

The first hit knocks him to the floor. The next is aimed at his stomach. They’re all on him now, and Ryu curls up, not able to protect anything as the hits rain down on him.

His ears are ringing, and he can’t see anything. They drag him up to his feet, but he can’t stand, and a pained moan slips past his lips.

They throw a large hoodie and a pair of sweatpants at him before releases his hands and orders him to dress. What’s left of his own clothes are covered in filth and blood, he happily tries to take it off. Only, it’s impossible with his fingers, and Youta loses his patience and orders them to help him. They’re not gentle.

Then they grab him and holds him as Youta steps up in front of him. He slaps Ryu hard, once, twice, leaving him even dizzier than before. So dizzy he doesn’t see the knife. The blade is pressed hard against his eyebrow and then move up, cutting the skin open and making blood run into Ryu’s eye.

“Something to remember me by,” says Youta and pats his stinging cheek almost kindly. Then he turns to his men. “Get going. And hurry up.”

They cover his eyes, and Ryu knows this is it.

He’s led from the boiler room, stumbling over his numb feet until he hits them against the steps of a staircase. They have to carry him up and up, and then Ryu can suddenly breathe in fresh air. He can hear the wind. Doors closing. A car running.

The click of a car trunk opening and he’s forcefully stuffed inside. He can’t brace himself against the violent movements of the car, not with his hands like this, so he just curls up as it drives off.

This is it.

They’re going to kill him.

He feels relieved.

Despite the violent motions of the car, a strange calmness fills him.

He didn’t say anything.

They tried, and he didn’t say anything. And now they’ll kill him.

~*~

As soon as the front door opens, Hayato jumps to his feet. Taku comes in and stops dead when he sees him.

“Hey,” Taku says carefully and puts his schoolbag aside. He’s probably spent the day doing his homework. Taku’s always been a good student.

“Hey,” says Hayato, and has to clear his throat. Damn, this is difficult. “Look, about this morning, I’m… I’m really sorry, okay.”

“It’s fine,” says Taku, and Hayato shakes his head.”

“It’s not.” It’s really, really not fine. “I know what it’s like to see someone like that, and I’m sorry you had to, okay? I’m sorry.” 

Taku watches him for a moment like he wants to ask, but he thankfully doesn’t. He probably already knows. He’s smart. “You can make dinner,” he says instead, and gives Hayato a small smile, and Hayato knows he’s forgiven.

“Sure,” he says. Cooking is the one thing he can still do.

~*~

The car stops.

They open the trunk and drag him out, and then he’s standing on bare feet on something… almost warm. It’s not like the damp concrete floor of the boiler room. It feels weird.

He hears the trunk close and flinches at the sound. The blindfold is removed, and when he blinks, dried blood flakes off his eyes.

He’s outside. He can see the sky above him, tinted red as the sun is going down. Or is it rising? He isn’t sure.

Youta comes over to him and watches him for a moment. He looks almost disappointed. Then he takes a single step closer.

Ryu blinks and looks down. Youta pulls the knife out of Ryu’s stomach and steps back. “Let’s go,” he says, and the hands holding Ryu releases him. He falls to his knees, staring at the stain spreading on the front of the hoodie.

A kick sends him to the ground. Youta crunches down beside him and holds up two fingers, a piece of folded paper between them.

“See to that they get it, okay, kid?”

He let’s go of the paper, and it lands on Ryu, who can only feel the wetness spread through his clothes. Youta gets up, but there’s something in his expression that makes Ryu smile.

He’s won.

Youta notices, and his eyes narrow, but Ryu doesn’t care. He won.

Baring his teeth, Youta kicks Ryu in the stomach, and an agony he’s never felt before goes through him. For the first time in a long while, he screams from the pain.

“Shit,” says Youta. He turns and leaves, and Ryu can hear the car driving off.

The sky is blood red above him, and he feels cold, but it doesn’t matter.

He won.

~*~

Her grandfather reads the letter carefully before smiling. “Good news, indeed,” he says and hands it back to her. “Seems like your luck is turning.”

“I really hope so,” she says and folds it neatly. With everything going on, she had hesitated in telling him about the job offer. He’d assured her it was fine to celebrate something like this and had Tetsu bring out some fine sake.

He fills the cups and raises his own.

“To another beginning and a new job.”

“Thank you, Grandpa,” she says. As always, she’s relieved to have his support. She knows her grandfather, along with the rest of the family, still hopes she’ll put her dream of teaching aside, and instead get more involved with the family. It isn’t easy to constantly refuse, but it helps so much knowing he respects her choice, no matter what.

“Will you still be living here?” he asks. She nods.

“It’s not far. I can take the bus.”

“Good to hear. The house is too quiet without you.”

She highly doubts that, but it’s still nice to hear. “I’m just relieved. I miss working.”

“I know,” he says warmly and is about to refill their cups when they hear it. It sounds like it comes from outside, but even through the closed doors, there’s no mistaking it. It’s a scream.

Yankumi is about to rise when her grandfather holds out a hand in front of her. His smile is gone, as is the gentle look on his face, which seems almost transformed. The man beside is not her grandfather right now; he’s the leader of a clan.

Tetsu comes running from the kitchen, and Wakamatsu comes from upstairs. They both look at their leader, who only needs to nod.

Yankumi watches as they head for the front door. Her whole body is tense, ready to spring into action, but she stays still, obeying the silent order form her grandfather.

They wait. And then comes the call.

“Ojou!”

She springs to her feet. She doesn’t bother with shoes as she runs outside, her hair flying, only to stop up short. Her grandfather comes up behind her, and she hears a sharp intake of breath. Someone curses in a low voice, and then Sugawara rushes past her and drops to his knees beside Tetsu. His kneeling beside the unconscious form of her former student, pressing both hands against the boy’s stomach. They’re covered in blood.

Odagiri. It’s Odagiri. Despite the bruises and the swollen flesh of his face, despite all the blood – oh god, there’s so much blood – there’s no doubt.

“It’s bad,” Tetsu hisses to Sugawara, who’s searching for a pulse on the boy’s neck. 

For the first time in her life, Yankumi is frozen to the spot. She watches, almost helplessly as her family moves around her. Wakamatsu comes running from the street.

“They got away,” he says. “I didn’t even see the plates.”

“Get the car,” her grandfather orders Sugawara, who reluctantly rises. “And call the doctor. Tell him to open up the clinic.” Wakamatsu nods and rushes back into the house.

Minoru comes outside now and kneels down beside Tetsu. He presses a towel against the wound, trying to help stop the bleeding. It quickly gets soaked through.

“Hurry!” Tetsu yells. Wakamatsu returns and runs to the gate where the car appears.

“Get him in!” Tetsu and Minoru gently lift Odagiri off the ground and carries him to the car.

Yankumi watches it all through a haze. It’s like a fogged class is between her and everything that’s happening. As Odagiri is moved, she sees the dark stain on the ground.

“Kumiko.” Gentle hands touch her shoulders, and the glass shatters, bringing her back. It’s been a long time since she’s seen her grandfather this serious. “Go along. Hurry up now.”

“Right,” she says and tries to shake herself out of it. Right. She runs to the car where Wakamatsu is closing the door to the back. She goes to the other side and jumps into the front passenger seat. She has barely closed the door before Sugawara drives off.

In the back, Odagiri is lying on the seat, his knees bent up against the window. Tetsu is kneeling on the floor, pressing his hands against the wound on Odagiri’s stomach. It’s an awkward position and probably less than useful, so she turns to Sugawara and says, “Hurry. As fast as you can.”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are fixed on the road.

The car makes a sharp turn, and Yankumi suddenly remembers her seatbelt. A soft moan makes her look back. Past Tetsu shoulders, she gets a glimpse of Odagiri’s face. It’s deadly pale, but his eyes are open, if only slightly. They’re rimmed by blood and bruises.

“Odagiri?” she says, but there’s no response. The car takes another sharp turn, and Yankumi is thrown against the door, nearly smacking her head against the window. She looks ahead, focusing on holding on as Sugawara drives like death itself is following them.

~*~

He watches the car speed off, tires screeching, with a sense of foreboding.

Seeing the young Odagiri like that had shocked him, more than he likes to admit. Kumiko’s reaction, even the men’s, had been understandable, but he’d honestly not expected himself to care so much for this boy.

He always did his best to stay out of her job. To let her handle her students her way, but this is different. He can’t put his finger on it, but something is up. Something is happening around him, and he’s somehow missed the signs. And he’s still missing them.

He sighs and hides his hands in his sleeves, just as Hiro appears by his side, face grim.

“What?” he asks, knowing whatever it is, it’s not good.

Without a word, Hiro hands him a piece of paper. It’s folded, so the writing, carefully written in black ink, isn’t blurred out by a large amount of blood smeared across it.

He reads the message, and disgust mingled with worry fills him at once.

“What do we do?” asks Hiro, his eyes shining with brewing anger.

He re-reads the message, letting the words and their meaning settle inside him with a coldness that spreads throughout his body. “This is a threat against my family,” he says and looks at Hiro. “You know what to do.”

Hiro nods firmly and returns to the house. He stays behind, looking down the street in the direction the car disappeared, the paper still in his hand.

Kumiko will not react well to this, he knows.

He wants to throw the paper away, but she’ll want to see it. And when she does, she’ll know this is far bigger than they first thought. 

He turns around and goes back to the house. They have work to do.

He gives the blood-stained paper a last look, feeling his disgust grow at the words he sees.

_Here’s your pet back_

They have much work to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know when part 2 will be done, or how long it'll be. This one wasn't supposed to be more than 5k, so all my planning is useless anyway. We'll see!  
> Thanks for reading so far!


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